


Pleasant Conversations

by spicy_diamond



Category: Heart no Kuni no Alice | Alice in the Country of Hearts
Genre: F/M, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicy_diamond/pseuds/spicy_diamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[HnKnA Gift Exchange, fem!Blood /Julius] Julius was never one for making conversation. Especially when dealing with Blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Conversations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perixulum](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=perixulum).



> For perixulum! Happy Valentine's Day!

It wasn't a strong scent, not in comparison to the rich aroma of coffee that loomed over every nook and cranny of Julius' workspace, but it was distinct nonetheless – subtle notes of black tea and roses – intruding upon the calm of the Clock Tower and disturbing the Clockmaker's concentration despite his best attempts to ignore it.

“You're _still_ here?”

The mafioso had come to drop off the her usual shipment of broken clocks. There was no reason for the transaction to take long at all. She should have left immediately. And yet.

“How rude,” settling herself down in the chair across from his at the worktable, Blood crossed her legs flippantly. “First, you deny me the most basic elements of hospitality. Then, you act surprised when I help myself. Not very gentlemanly of you, Clockmaker.”

“I'm not trying to be hospitable or gentlemanly,” he told her flatly, staring hard at the cup of tea she held. _She was using his dishware._ His irritation increased. “If you want hospitality go home.”

Julius liked tea well enough. But, he deliberately didn't keep any in his tower.

For just this reason.

“And miss our pleasant chats?” Her lips curved further under his scrutiny and she inhaled softly, savoring the scent of her tea before taking a sip. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

 _Pleasant?_ Julius opened his mouth to retort before immediately thinking better of it and, refusing to give Blood the satisfaction of a response, he buried himself back in the clock he was working on with a scowl.

Unfortunately, she had no problem in continuing to carry on the conversation on her own.

“Of course your kitchen remains woefully inadequate. But, luckily, I've learned to come prepared for your inadequacies.” She raised her teacup pointedly to him, before having another drink. “It's a woman's job to make up for the failings of men, after all.”

“What do you say, Clockmaker?” She asked him with a taunting smile. “A woman's touch might actually make this dump of yours livable?”

Eye never moving from the gears in front of him, Julius gave a soft derisive snort. _His tower was perfectly livable._

“It might make _other things_ more tolerable as well.”

Blood emphasized her point by brushing her foot against his shin under the table, the toe of her boot running suggestively up his leg and ruining what remained of Julius' composure.

_Thinly veiled insults? Gunfire? Those were things Julius was prepared for in dealing with the mafioso. Physical contact? Not so much._

Clock parts slipping through his fingers, the Clockmaker shot up from his seat, chair falling away with a loud clatter to the floor. His cheeks blazed.

“What are you doing!?” He demanded.

Blood didn't twitch. Still seated in precisely the same position she had been for the duration of their conversation, she seemed entirely indifferent to his reaction... save for the wicked smirk that played upon her lips.

“See? You're more lively already.”

This time Julius didn't try to contain his sigh of exasperation. One hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose as he scowled, “I'd _hardly_ call this tolerable.”

“Agreed,” Blood lifted her tea cup, holding it over the mess of broken clocks on his work bench. And Julius watched, horror-stricken, as she sharply upended it over the gears.

_However._

Arm outstretched to stop her, he froze.

_It was empty._

She shook the empty cup coyly before setting it on the table with a smile.

“There's not nearly enough tea in this place for me,” she told him matter-of-factly, getting to her feet. One hand moving to retrieve her walking stick, Blood smoothed out her jacket front. Then, deftly tipped her hat to him. “I'm _much_ too pretty for you anyway.”


End file.
